


Sapphire Blue

by beepbeepbitchard



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Stanlon being domestic, implied/referenced ocd, only rated teen for language, thats all this is, what a great day to remember that Stan singing like paul anka is canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beepbeepbitchard/pseuds/beepbeepbitchard
Summary: Mike is homesick on Christmas. Stan helps cheer him up.





	Sapphire Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrs_vh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_vh/gifts).



> For mrs_vh from your rarepair secret santa! hope you enjoy :)
> 
> This was supposed to be entirely a holiday fic and it did not turn out that way at all, what happened?

Stan laid on his side, hands clasped under his cheek. It was nearly ten, and Mike didn’t like to sleep in. Stan figured he should wake him up, but...he looked so serene as he slept. He was gorgeous, both dreaming and awake; Stan could stare at him forever. He sighed. It was probably best to get him up.

“Mike, my love,” Stan whispered, shaking his boyfriend gently awake. Mike groaned softly and threw an arm over his eyes. “Mike, it’s Christmas morning, don’t you want to open presents?” Mike opened one eye, squinting. Stan laughed lightly. “Yeah, love, I have presents for you. I think you might like them.” Stan smiled as Mike heaved himself up into a sitting position. “Nice to see you this morning, Bear,” Stan teased, giving Mike a peck on the cheek.

Mike stretched, yawning. “Good morning, babe,” he said in his low I-just-woke-up voice. Stan shivered. He loved that sound. He pulled Stan close to him, kissing him on the nose. Stan wrinkled it and pulled away slightly. “Really? That bad?” Mike joked. Stan looked at him with pleading eyes. “Alright, fine, love, I’ll go brush my teeth.” He slid out of bed and walked down the hall to their bathroom.  
  
“I love you!” Stan called after him. Mike swung back into the doorway, toothbrush in his mouth.

“I love you too.”

—

“Hurry up, baby-love, I wanna give you your presents!”

“I’m coming, angel.”

Stan waited impatiently at the bottom of the steps for his boyfriend to come downstairs. Mike smiled knowingly from the top step and came down to him, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. Stan wrapped his arms around him an deepened the kiss, then leaned back to press his forehead to Mike’s. He smiled at Stan lovingly.

“Sit down, Stan, yeah? I’ll make us breakfast.” Stan nodded and took a seat at their kitchen table. He picked up the newspaper and started to read while Mike spun around the kitchen, whisking pancake batter. Stan started to sing softly. “Put Your Head on My Shoulder” by Paul Anka. Mike said all the time how much he loved that Stan sounded just like him when he sang, and he enjoyed making Mike laugh. His boyfriend bent down slightly to kiss him on the forehead before pouring the batter into a pan. Stan folded the newspaper and stood up. “You alright, love?”

Stan said nothing, but continued to sing softly. “ _Put your head on my shoulder, whisper in my ear, baby_.” He put his arms around Mike’s neck and pressed his head to his chest. Mike smiled against his hair and began to sway.

“ _Words I want to hear, tell me, tell me that you love me too_.”

“I love you so much, baby,” Mike whispered. “More than you’ll ever know.” He squeezed him harder.

“I love you too,” Stan smiled softly. “But you better check on those pancakes.”

“Shit!” Mike cursed. He quickly ran over to the stove, taking a spatula and checking the bottom of the pancakes. “Don’t worry, my love, I got it just in time,” he assured, winking.

“How do you manage to do that?” Stan said, shaking his head. “No matter what happens, your food is always perfect.”

“I got the magic touch, baby,” Mike teased.

He slid the pancakes out of the pan and onto a plate, which he then placed in front of Stan. Stan swallowed them down quickly—“Thanks, baby-love!”—before pulling his boyfriend into their small living room.

“Wha-Woah, where’s the fire?” Mike joked.

“Just sit down, okay?” Stan led Mike over to the couch. “I know you were upset that you didn’t get to go home for Christmas this year, so I brought home to you.” Stan reached behind their little tree and pulled out a neatly wrapped package. “I hope you like it, my love.”

“But I didn’t even get you anything,” Mike protested.

“Baby, you got me presents for every day of Hanukkah, I think you deserve a break from gift-giving,” Stan replied fondly. He handed Mike the present and smiled, nodding at him encouragingly.

Mike slowly unwrapped the package. “Oh, Stan, you didn’t!” Mike turned to his boyfriend and pulled him into a deep kiss. It was Mike’s worn leather scrapbook from home. The scrapbook held dozens of pictures of Mike and his family, the farm, and Mike’s old dog, Mr. Chips. Stan had called Jessica one night after he noticed that Mike was feeling particularly homesick, and she instantly agreed to send the old book to their apartment in the city. Stan had been waiting for the right time to give it to him, and by the time Christmas rolled around, he had a plan in mind.

“Look inside,” Stan encouraged.

Mike opened the scrapbook and flipped through the pages. The first half of the book was well worn; Mike had looked at the pictures inside so many times, he could remember exactly which page a picture was on. Soon, he reached the point where the pictures should have stopped, but the weight of the next page told him otherwise. Mike turned the page and gasped. The rest of the book was filled with pictures of him and Stan from the past two years: When Mike had first asked Stan out, their picnic date at the park, them kissing in front of their newly bought apartment. Their entire relationship was tucked inside of the pages of the scrapbook that was so familiar to him.

“You can still put pictures of your parents in here, of course, but I thought that you could start collecting pictures of your new family, too,” Stan said softly, smiling.

“Oh, Stan, I love it so much. I love _you_ so much,” Mike said, voice breaking. “It’s perfect, I don’t know what could make this any more perfect.”

Stan took a deep breath. “How about this?” Mike’s eyes widened as Stan stood up from the couch and slowly sank to one knee. He unclasped his hands to expose a small velvet box, which he then opened to reveal a ring. It was gorgeous, yet delicate: a thin gold band, two tiny sapphires embedded within.

Mike was stunned silent. He opened his mouth to respond, but what came out was, “Where have you been hiding that?”

Stan grinned. “Mike, we have been through so much together. We’ve had our ups and downs, but not for one minute have I ever doubted my love for you. You’re the one, Mike. I love how much you care about everything and everyone around you. I love your laugh, I love your face, I love how you’ll forget about pancakes on the stove because I want to dance with you in our kitchen—” Mike chuckled. “—I love how you let me rant to you while you pet my hair, and how you don’t mind that I have to go around the apartment three times closing and checking the locks and doors in our apartment before I can go anywhere. I love your smile. I love how creative you are, and how strong, and how sweet. I love that I’m a better person just by being around you. I never have, and never will, love anyone half as much as I love you. So, now that I’ve rambled on for long enough: Michael Hanlon, will you marry me?”

There was a moment of silence that at once made Stan regret everything he had ever done in his life, but the tension was quickly broken by Mike letting out a choked sob and nodding his head wildly. “Yes, I will marry you. Yes, yes, yes!” He dropped to his knees and held Stan tight, pulling him into a passionate kiss before allowing him to slip the ring on his finger.

“You better get ready,” Stan told him.

“Why?”

“You know Richie’s gonna flip when he finds out.”

—

“Mikey, my boy, I’m ready for pancakes!” Richie burst into the door, Eddie in tow.

“There aren’t any more, Rich,” Mike told him, laughing at the distraught expression on his face. “Just kidding, come on in.” He clapped Richie on the shoulder and followed him into the kitchen. Eddie caught a glimpse of Stan’s face in the living room and quickly rushed in to sit next to him.

“Did you—” Eddie asked excitedly. Stan nodded his head quickly. “And did he say—” Stan nodded again, grinning widely. “Yes!” Eddie cheered, pulling Stan into a tight hug. “Congratulations, Stan!”

“I’m still in a bit of a shock, honestly,” Stan replied, laughing softly. “I mean, he’s going to be my _husband_. We’re going to get _married_.”

“You’re going to what?” Richie shrieked, causing Stan to jump in his seat.

“Christ, Richie, you scared the crap out of me,” Stan breathed, clutching his chest.

“You didn’t answer my question, Staniel my Maniel, _what_ is happening with you and Michael?” Richie got uncomfortably close to him, and Stan stood up, only to be captured in the arms of his boyf—his _fiancé_.

“We’re engaged, Rich,” Mike said happily, pressing a kiss to the top of Stan’s head. “We’re getting married.”

“Well, shit, if that’s not the best Christmas present ever, I don’t know what is!” Richie fist pumped the air. “Stan the Man and ol’ Mikey getting married at last!”

“But don’t tell Bev and Ben, okay?” Stan pleaded. “I want to surprise them.”

“You have my word, cap’n!” Richie gave an enthusiastic salute.

—

“Merry Christmas!” Ben and Beverly said in cheerful unison, walking through the door.

“Bev! Ben! Stan and Mike are getting married!” Richie shouted.

“What?” Bev screeched.

“Goddamnit, Richie!”

“You had one job!”

“Come on!” Eddie smacked Richie on the back of the head.

“Ow! What was that for?” Richie rubbed his head, looking wounded.

“For being a dumbass, babe,” Eddie told him, rolling his eyes.

“If you say so…”

“Let me see the ring! Who proposed to who? When’s the wedding? Oh my god, I’m so excited! Tell me everything!” Bev gushed, sitting on Ben’s lap and putting her chin in her hands.

“Okay, so…” Mike began to tell the story of the events that had happened only a few hours before. Stan set next to him, looking at him dreamily. He was getting married to the love of his life. His friends were here, celebrating the holidays together for the first time in God-knows-how-long. Bill was off in London, romancing some British movie star, but he would be home soon enough, and then the Lucky Seven would all be together again. He looked around the room, at the people he had so much love in his heart for, and he knew. This was home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not really happy with the rushed ending/characterization of the rest of the losers but it be like that sometimes, hope u enjoyed anyway!!


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